*Taps mic*

Anyone still out there?

It's been way too long. Embarrassingly long. *Hangs head in shame*

Reasons? Excuses? Yeah, I have those. Several, in fact. We need to catch up. I have lots to share, so please see me at the bottom for all the things.

Chapter 7

"Souvenirs," Three Days Grace
"Don't Give Up On Me," Andy Grammer
"Better Days," Staind (Feat. Dorothy)
"Take It to the Grave," Warren Zeiders

*Yeah, I know. Four songs is a bit much. What can I say? Music fuels the words for me, and I kinda love them all. That last one especially is a whole mood.

Edward

I shove yet another stack of files to the other side of my desk and look again, mumbling, "Goddammit." Before I can reconsider getting on my hands and knees to look under my fucking desk, there's a knock on the doorframe.

"Everything okay in here?" Jazz asks, one eyebrow raised.

"I can't find my fucking keys. Is Sam still here?"

Jazz shakes his head. "No. He left around two. He said his girl had an appointment or something."

I nod absentmindedly. "Yeah, I remember him saying he had somewhere to be. Dammit." Defeated, I flop my ass in my chair.

"I'd offer you a ride home"—his face lights up with amusement—"but I doubt you'd wanna ride bitch, especially in the rain."

I snort a laugh and shake my head. "Not really." I sigh and scrub a hand over my face. "I'm good. I'll call Bella and have her bring my extra set."

"We still on for church tomorrow night?"

I screw up my face in confusion. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"Oh, I don't know, because you've been acting like a moody asshole all week."

"And what's new about that?"

He chuckles. "Not a damn thing, but you've been extra moody."

"Wouldn't you be if—"

He holds up a hand, effectively cutting me off. "I know you've got a lot of shit going on at home. It's why I asked if we're still having church tomorrow."

I exhale, long and deep. "Yeah. We have some shit we need to take care of."

"All right. And you're sure you're good to get home? I can always ask Ali to—"

"I'm good. There's no reason to bother my sister. I'll just call Bella."

"Okay then. I'll see you in the morning."

"Have a good night, Jazz."

"You, too, man," he says before turning to walk away. His footsteps fade as he walks back toward the bays.

With a final scan of my desk, I pull my cellphone from my pocket to call my wife.

It rings twice before she picks up with a tentative, "Hey."

"Hey." I'm hyperaware of the tension between us. It's even obvious in the uncomfortable pause on the phone. I sigh. "I need to ask you a favor."

"Okay …"

"I seem to have misplaced my keys."

"Your keys? You've never lost your keys."

"I know. I must've turned over the pile of shit on my desk a dozen times, and I still can't find them. I feel like I'm losing my fuckin' mind."

"And you're sure you left them on your desk?"

"Positive. Maybe Mac is being a pain in the ass and thought it would be funny to fuck with me by hiding them or something."

"And let me guess. He's already left for the day?"

"Probably thirty minutes ago."

"And Sam took Emily to her appointment." She sighs. An awkward silence lingers on the line. It feels like ages since we had a full-on conversation. Even this—just figuring out a way to solve a problem together—feels almost forced. "So, do I need to come get you?" she finally asks.

"That or bring me the spare set I have at the house."

"I'm closer to the shop than home. I'll just swing by and pick you up. We'll have to pick up Macie from her friend's house on the way home. I'll call Amy's mom and let her know I'll be a little late. I'll see you in … ten or fifteen, depending on traffic."

"Okay. Thanks, Bella," I say sincerely, glancing out the office window. "I'll see you when you get here. And be careful. It's raining pretty hard."

I spend the next ten minutes making sure everything is secure for the night, flipping off lights and locking what needs to be locked on my way out. By the time I set the alarm and rush out to lock the front door, Bella pulls up and honks once.

Hunching over, I make a run for it, opening the passenger door and sliding into the seat, slamming the door behind me. "Ugh," I grunt, swiping a hand through my hair and my forearm over my face. "We've been here more than ten years, and I still hate the rain."

"Beats hundred-degree summer days, though." She shifts into drive and pulls out of the lot. She glances over at me a time or two, but focuses back on the road.

"What?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing."

"Bella …"

"What?" She gives me another side-glance. "You just look pissed at the world."

I grunt in frustration. "I'm not. I'm just irritated that I couldn't find my damn keys."

"Do you really think Mac hid them just to mess with you?"

"Maybe. But he was being helpful earlier, suggesting something for Sam, so I don't know."

"Helpful how?"

I turn toward her. "Mac suggested some classes that might speed up what Sam needs to learn. Most of what we do is custom work, so it would be good if he had a more thorough understanding of the basics."

She looks my way. "I thought you were going to train him."

"I am, but it'll help him get the experience faster. And having certifications or any kind of degree can only be helpful in the long run. He may not want to work with me forever. Hell, he and Emily might want to move away once—"

"Don't say that."

I hold up a hand. "All I'm saying is that his future isn't set. And having a better education than watching me or his uncles work isn't a bad thing."

She presses her lips together before conceding. "Yeah, you're probably right."

The swish of the wipers and the pattering of the rain are the only sounds in the car as we cruise along the highway toward home. I want to ask her about her day, have a normal conversation like a normal couple, but the elephant in the room prevents that from happening. Starting a conversation about anything other than the kids feels out of place. Before I can come up with anything more to say, we're pulling into Macie's friend's driveway.

"I'll just run up and get her," Bella says before ducking out of the car and running through the rain onto the porch.

The brightest spot in my life at the moment practically leaps off the porch and runs for the car, climbing into the backseat. Her smiling face lights up the interior all on its own when she sees me.

"Daddy! I didn't know you were coming with Mom to get me!" She pushes her way through the space between the front seats and tries to strangle me in a hug around my neck. "Can we watch a movie tonight?"

I chuckle and urge her to sit back and buckle up before answering her question. "We'll see, Macie. We'll see."

Dinner is a little less tense than last night's was. One, I'm not drinking, and two, Bella and I seem to have come to some kind of unspoken truce.

Whatever the reason, I'll take it.

Macie, as usual, dominates the conversation, telling us what she did at Amy's house and going on and on about what supplies and clothes she wants for the upcoming school year.

"Can we go to the mall with Amy and her mom this weekend?" Macie asks Bella. "We want to get matching shoes. Can we, Mom?"

She turns to our daughter. "We should be able to go. I'll call Amy's mom and we'll set it up."

Macie leans so far out of her chair she almost falls off of it and wraps her scrawny little arms around Bella as far as she can reach. "Thanks, Mommy." She wiggles back into her seat. "Then we can go to Target and get my folders and markers and some new earrings and—"

Bella laughs. "Slow down, Macie Renee. I don't think new earrings are on your supply list. Maybe we'll check the school's website to see what you actually need before we make that list of yours any longer. Deal?"

Macie sighs. "Fine."

Once the table is clear and the dishes are done, all of us—minus Macie, who's run off to play a video game—settle in the den to talk about all the changes heading our way. Sam and Emily sit curled together on one end of the sofa while Bella sits on the other. I take a seat in my recliner, content to let my wife lead the conversation.

Bella takes a deep breath and blows it out. "First, I want to know what the doctor said today."

Emily glances at Sam, and he squeezes her hand. She looks over to Bella. "That I'm eight weeks. She said she didn't want to try this time because it's still kind of early, but we, uh, we'll get to hear the heartbeat next time," she says softly. A hint of a smile lights up her face before she ducks her head. "That'll be pretty cool."

A wistful expression falls over Bella's face. "It is pretty cool. And something you'll never forget. I remember the first time I heard Sammy's heartbeat." She shakes her head in disbelief. "Was that really twenty years ago? God, I feel old."

An old ache stirs inside me, the one that reminds me I wasn't there to share that moment with her … that it was my brother and not me who got to see her smile when she heard Sam's heartbeat. It's just another reminder that I'm not his father.

I clear my throat and shake off the moment of self-pity. "And everything was good? With the pregnancy, I mean?"

"Yeah," Sam says. "Unless there are any problems, we go back every four weeks for the next few months then more often the closer we get. And the doc said she'd do an ultrasound in a couple more months, just to check for any problems. I think she called it an anatomy scan."

"And when is your due date?"

"March 14th."

I blow out a breath. "Okay then. Now we know how much time we have to get ready for the little squirt, which means now we need to figure out living arrangements and all the details."

"You know I went to see your mom yesterday," Bella says to Emily. "Did she tell you what she and I talked about?"

Emily grabs Sam's hand. "Just that you two talked about me moving out after my birthday."

"We did. And Edward and I talked," Bella says, "and we want you to stay with us."

I watch as Emily practically squeezes the life out of Sam's hand.

"We'll have some ground rules," I add. "You won't be sharing a bedroom. At least not for a while. It won't be a free-for-all. Our focus is going to be on the baby, first and foremost, and what's best for the two of you."

At the mention of rules and the baby, the two kids sitting across from us look like deer caught in headlights. The way Emily holds onto Sam like he's the only thing holding her here breaks my heart. She's so young, so vulnerable, and she's being forced to grow up far faster than she would have otherwise.

Then I look over at my wife as she elaborates on what we want for them. The woman who has been through so much in her life, so much loss and heartache, and I see a glimpse of the girl who had to grow up too fast, too. But instead of letting it break her, Bella grew stronger from all the bullshit she had to endure. I can only hope that Emily will find her own strength in this mess she and Sam have found themselves in.

Bella and I go on to explain the tentative arrangement we've made with Emily's parents and our thoughts on building a bedroom space in the basement so that she can move in after her birthday. Sam's not exactly thrilled with the idea of not sharing a bedroom with his girlfriend, at least not at first, but he understands our stance on it. He doesn't even balk when I suggest looking into mechanics classes.

By the time Bella is hugging Emily before they leave for Sam to drive her home, I'm mentally wrung out.

"Daddy?" Macie says from behind me.

I scrub a hand over my face, beyond ready to go to bed and put this day behind me. But I turn to face my little girl standing in the doorway. "What's up, kiddo?"

"I know it's too late to watch a movie, but can you read me a bedtime story?"

Already, my little girl is taking a backseat to the craziness going on around us, and a pang of guilt stabs me in the gut. No way can I deny her simple request. "Absolutely."

Macie's out cold before I can finish two chapters, so I place her book on her bedside table, pull her blanket up over her shoulders and kiss her forehead. "Love you, baby girl," I whisper. I turn off her lamp and quietly slip out of her room.

I head back downstairs to make sure Sam's home and to lock up for the night. I don't even have to seek him out. He's walking in through the side door as I reach the kitchen.

"Emily get home okay?" I ask as he hangs his keys on the hook.

"Yeah." He clears his throat. "And thank you … for tonight, I mean. She feels a lot better now that there's some kind of plan. I tried to tell her everything would be okay, but until you guys laid it all out, she wasn't so sure."

"You know we won't let you two down, right? We're here for you. Both of you."

Biting his lip, he hangs his head and nods. "Yeah."

I reach out and grab his shoulder, squeezing. "I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but everything is going to be okay. Your mom and I know what it's like to be in your shoes, and we want you all to make it to the other side of this in a better place. We'll do everything in our power to make sure that happens."

Shock doesn't begin to describe what I feel when he reaches out and wraps me in a hug. "Thanks, Edward. I—" He swallows hard. I don't have to guess what he's feeling.

I remember being about his age and in almost this exact situation with Angela. I know what it feels like to have the support of my family. The relief and gratitude he's likely feeling is something I couldn't put into words, either.

I pat his back. "I know, Sam. I know."

Bella's already in bed reading by the time I walk into our bedroom.

She looks up from her book. "Macie settled?"

"Yeah," I answer, pulling my wallet from my pocket and tossing it onto the top of the dresser. "I didn't get through two chapters before she fell out."

Without thinking much about it, I pull my shirt up and over my head, tossing it in the hamper. I pull my belt from the loops before kicking my jeans aside as well. When I turn to head for the bathroom, I catch Bella watching me.

Even though we shared a moment this morning, that tense, uneasy feeling that's been between us all damn week is still there, lurking behind her guarded eyes. Like she's unsure how to act around me. Her gaze doesn't linger, and before I can decide how I feel about the look in her eyes, she turns back to her book.

I purposely run through my end-of-the-day routine a little slower than usual. A huge part of me wants to repeat last night and grab my gym shorts and go downstairs for a drink and some solitude, but I know keeping my distance from my wife won't solve any of our problems. So, with a resigned sigh, I flick off the bathroom light and step back into our room.

Only my bedside lamp is still on, and Bella is on her side of the bed, rolled over, facing away from me. I hesitate for a split second—the thought of hiding in the den again flashing through my mind—but I ultimately crawl into bed beside my wife. I turn off my lamp before lying on my back and staring at the ceiling.

The silence is nearly deafening. I can hear Bella breathing beside me, and I know from the pace of it she's not asleep. My arms burn with the need to roll over and drag her into them.

Before Sam turned everything upside down, before that fateful call that summoned us back to Arizona, any other night we'd fall asleep wrapped up in each other. I'd tuck her head under my chin and hold her. I'd let her warm breaths on my chest lull me to sleep. But tonight, separated by only a handful of inches, I've never felt so far away from her.

The rustle of bedsheets signals Bella is shifting beside me. Now that she's on her back, her body so close mine, I can feel the heat of her skin. I can smell her. I can imagine the way she feels under my hands. She's everything that feels like home to me, but I feel like I can't even freely reach out and touch her.

There's still so much shit between us, and right now it feels like we'll never get back to that place where everything is easy and we don't have to think twice about how we act around each other. And with her next words, I know she feels it, too.

"I hate this," she whispers into the darkness. "I want to fix it, but I don't know how."

"I don't either, baby."

She inches her hand across the mattress until her fingers brush mine. "Tell me we'll be okay," she pleads, her voice cracking.

The pain in her voice damn near breaks my heart. I turn my head and meet her eyes through the darkness, hooking my pinky to hers. "We'll be okay."

With church after work, and the weather cooperating, I take the bike to work the next morning. I'll figure out later how to get the Nova home.

The shop is busy, even for a Friday, so it's nearly noon before I have a few minutes to interrogate Mac. "Hey, fuckhead!"

He whips around, looking ten shades of confused. "Who? Me?"

"Yes, you." I stalk toward him. "Where did you put my keys?"

"Your keys? What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that I can't find my goddamn keys, that's what. Now, where did you hide them?"

Mac holds up his hands. "Hey, I like a practical joke as much as the next guy, but it wasn't me. I know better than to fuck with another man's ride."

"Then where the hell did they go?" I mutter more to myself than him, but he hears me anyway.

He lightly punches my shoulder. "They'll turn up." His lips curl up in a smirk. "But I wouldn't worry too much. It's common for you to lose things at your age … gramps."

I can't help but chuckle, punching him right back. "Shut the hell up."

The monthly church meeting is the first time we've all been together since half of the chapter got back from Arizona, and everyone seems happy to be here. The chapel is filled with loud conversation and laughter, and everyone seems to be in a good mood. It's exactly what I'd hoped our chapter would become when we re-stablished ourselves in Washington.

The club has grown in the ten years we've been here—we've seen members come and go—but right now we're seven patched members strong.

Aside from Jazz, Mac, Boomer, and myself, Chex Mix, Wolverine, and Mad Max round out the club. A story as interesting as the patch holder himself is behind the road names of Chet, Logan, and Max, and over the years, we've formed a bond that I wouldn't trade for anything.

Our chapter is finally all the things I wanted so badly for the club we left behind, and I have a true brother in each and every one of them. So, it's no wonder that they take each and every opportunity to give me shit.

"Ahem," Mac says, standing at the other end of the long table, looking as serious as Mac can. "I think we need to start this meeting off with an announcement."

I narrow my eyes at him. "What the fuck are you talking about? I didn't approve any kind of announcement."

He scoffs. "Like we do shit all official like around here. No," he says, turning his attention to the other men at the table. "As I was saying before being so rudely interrupted"—he shoots me a glare before his face lights up in a mischievous smile—"I have an announcement. Our highly esteemed club president, E, is officially an old fuck."

"Isn't he already an old fuck?" Logan shouts over the laughter.

Mac snorts a laugh. "Yes, but I said officially. Next spring, his darling Samuel is going to make him a grandpa."

Shouts of excitement fill the chapel, and handshakes and man hugs come at me from all sides as Boomer, Mad Max, Wolverine, and Chex congratulate me. And in this moment, it doesn't feel like the end-of-the-world problem it's felt like since Sam told me.

They all take their cheap shots, razzing me about being, as Mac said, an old fuck, but I take it all with a smile on my face.

"All right, all right," I say, waving everyone back to their seats, "can we get back to the important shit now?"

The usual topics like the accounts and scheduled events are discussed, and we're able to buzz through all the necessary shit pretty quickly.

"Anything else before we move on?" I ask everyone. When they all shake their heads, I turn to Boomer. "Were you able to find out anything on Hawk or Trigger?"

"I made some calls, read back through all the national newsletter emails, but there wasn't anything. No one's seen or heard from them since they were released. But you might have more luck calling around yourself, talking to a few other chapter presidents. A few of those guys didn't seem too eager to talk to me."

I nod once. "I figured as much. I'll make a few calls this weekend. Maybe contact a few Nationals. And Buzz?"

Boomer shakes his head. "He's still in SoCal, apparently."

"They can't have just vanished into thin air," Jazz says.

I lean back in my chair. "No, I'm sure they didn't. But if they skipped out on meeting with their parole officers, they don't exactly want to be found, either."

"Do you really think after all this time they'd go to all the trouble of coming up here to stir up shit?" Chex asks.

The three members who weren't there to witness all the shit that went down over a decade ago have no idea what those missing men are capable of. And we've yet to have a situation arise that the rest of us have to drag our own skeletons out of the closet. The men we used to be are not the same ones seated at this table.

But that doesn't mean they're not still buried somewhere inside each and every one of us.

A/N: Okay, how about a little chapter chat before we catch up? Do you feel like ExB made ANY progress? Things are still SO tense between them. We were introduced to some new club members and reminded of a few old ones. Like Chex, we have to wonder if those old members would really go to the trouble. I can't wait to hear your thoughts!

And now some catching up.

First, I want to thank you lovely people for still being here. To know anyone is still reading this after such a ridiculously long break means a lot. Xoxo. And an extra thank you goes out to my Throttle pre-readers—2brown-eyes, Driving Edward, and BitterHarpy—and my beta, jayhawkbb, for hanging in there with me while I've been dealing with writer's block of epic proportion.

In my defense, I did say I'd post this one as it came to me and not on any kind of schedule. I just never imagined it would be silent to me for so long. That said, I've actually had this chapter written and edited for a while, but I held onto it. The biggest reason for that was because I don't want to leave you hanging when the story dives quite a bit deeper, because let's be honest; cliffhangers can suck. Cliffhangers with nothing to follow them up can be devastating. But the words are beginning to move again. In fact, I just sent ch 9 to my beta, and I hope to have another written before I post again. With that in mind, I'm thinking that updating every two weeks (for now) is a good idea. At least until the words are flowing a little more freely. My goal is to complete this definitely before the end of this year, if not sooner. *fingers crossed*

If you want to come and harass me in person about finishing this one, and just have a blast in general with your fellow Twific peeps, I'll be at TFMU 2025 in Kansas City, KS July 24-27! There is a Facebook group—TFMU TwiFic Meetup—and a website with all the details! tfmuinfo. squarespace. com. Be sure to remove the spaces. But hurry, you have until June 24th to register! I REALLY hope to see you there!

Remember, the best way to stay up to date with what I'm up to, join in the discussion, and to see exclusive teaser pics, check out my Facebook group, Sunshine Fics. I'd love if you all could join us.

I hope to "see" you soon!

Be kind.
Stay safe.
Stay well.

Lots of love
~Sunshine